Tall, Dark, Handsome Stranger
by Ace of Hearts
Summary: *AU set in the antebellum era* Two years after the events of Southern Belle, sixteen-year-old Kitty has been flirting with a possible engagement to Kurt Wagner...until one fateful day, when a dashing desperado and his gang of outlaws arrive at the county.
1. Chapter One

*A/N: Hello to all my wonderful and loyal readers, hope you all like this little story as much as you did_ Southern Belle, _and before I forget, I apologize if Kurt's accent is way off (same goes for Piotr--anybody know how to do a proper Russian accent?), because I can't write accents very well to begin with, but I did the usual v-for-w switching whenever he's talking, except when he says words like "who," because I figure he can pronounce 'h' sounds, just not 'w' sounds. Okay, now I've probably succeeded in confusing my readers as well as myself, so I'll just shut up and let the story do the talking. Happy reading, and as always, please review.* 

* * *

**Early Autumn of 1855, Mississippi**

Golden sunlight splashed lazily over clusters of fragrant jasmine and gardenia petals while the last notes of a mockingbird's sweet song floated through the air, as the seventeen-year-old German-American boy crept mock-stealthily toward an unsuspecting girl in flowered rose crinoline sitting with a large group of her friends and talking and laughing as if without a care in the world. Kurt Wagner absently brushed some disobedient strands of his long blue-black hair away from his eyes as he continued sneaking up on a certain lively, pretty brunette, the mischievous grin on his face growing wider and causing his dimple to deepen visibly when he caught several of Sam Guthrie's younger siblings gawking wide-eyed at him over their slices of watermelon. Ever friendly, Kurt tossed a cheerful wave at the interested little children, before raising his index finger meaningfully to his lips and flashing an exaggerated wink for them to stay quiet. Having struck this deal with the "witnesses" to his little mission, Kurt resumed tiptoeing across the dewy emerald grass, when Rahne Sinclair, sitting in front of his selected target, happened to glance up at the last minute, throwing his plans awry. As the charming Irish girl's heart-shaped mouth started to part in warning, Kurt quickly salvaged what he could of his plan and dived the last couple of feet separating him from his ponytailed target, clasping his hands tightly over her eyes.   
"Guess who?" he sang out, at the same time that Kitty let out a little squeal of surprise, before laughing as she reached up with her slender hands to wrench his fingers away from her face with a cry of, "Kurt! When will you ever tire of these silly old pranks?" The youngest daughter of Charles Xavier, owner of one of the largest and wealthiest plantations in the Deep South, whipped around in a half-hearted attempt to glare at her neighbor and best friend since childhood, before the flash of mirth dancing across her cornflower-blue eyes gave her away and she dissolved into sunny little peals of giggles.   
"You are _so_ immature, Kurt Wagner!" the now sixteen-year-old Kitty tried to chastise, adding with a pseudo-haughty toss of her long, chestnut-brown hair, "Why, even Bobby Drake has outgrown such childish pranks and started acting like a respectable seventeen-year-old gentleman by now."   
"Me, immature?" Kurt teasingly fluttered his eyelashes in the rapid, coquettish manner of Southern girls, earning himself a roll of the eyes from Kitty as he continued, the mischief in his voice heightened by his faint German accent, "You're ze one who's laughing at my supposedly immature pranks, Miss Keety."   
"Yeah, because nobody else would feel sorry enough to ever humor you and your ridiculous little antics, Mr. Wagner," Kitty wasted no time in retorting with a playful smirk, reaching over and lightly pinching him on the back of his hand. 

A few feet away, lounging casually on a wide calico blanket and occasionally flashing her best smiles at the best-looking county boys, Tabitha turned to an eighteen-year-old Jean trying to convince Wanda that long hair wasn't as unmanageable as she made it out to be, and whispered conspiratorially while flinging a casual wag of her head toward a certain couple, "Hey, Jeannie, is it just me or is your baby sister over there getting a bit _too_ friendly with her good friend?" Jean paused in her conversation, a concerned frown beginning to darken her viridian eyes at the prospect of a family member disgracing herself in front of the entire county by behaving too boldly. Her glance fell on the spiritedly laughing and chatting Kurt and Kitty, and her frown began to lighten once she saw that her sister's conduct around the boy wasn't too forward, after all--or at least, not as much as Tabitha had hinted it to be.   
"Tabby, you shouldn't insinuate things--" Jean began to defend her youngest sister, when at that moment Amara cut in.   
"But Kitty _is_ acting a bit too freely around him," she interjected critically, her pretty little nose turning up in clear disdain over the scene unfolding in front of them. "After all, a true lady would never just reach out and hold a gentleman's hand like that."   
"She's not holding his hand," Jean spoke up for Kitty. "She's merely--"   
"I don't know, Jeannie," Tabitha broke in, then added meaningfully, "If I were you, I'd watch her conduct around men more closely--after all, your younger sisters seem to have developed a rather unsettling tendency to...ahem, let's just say, associate too closely with certain gentlemen of foreign descent?" The spirited blonde finished with a veneer of delicacy that poorly concealed her blatant jest, causing Wanda to scowl at her viciously blunt words and interrupt in an icy tone, "Tabitha, it wouldn't hurt you to think about your words before you just open your mouth and start spreading petty gossip all over the county." Tabitha smirked, tossing back her feathery gold hair and laughing, "Hey, I was just teasing there, no need to get so overprotective! It's high time _somebody_ around here started treating Rogue's elopement with more humor, rather than act as though our hearts were breaking with shame and--"   
"That's enough," Jean spoke up in a coolly even voice, her cherry eyebrows starting to dip together in the beginnings of a frown. "The Wagners are our closest neighbors and friends, and it's a well-known fact that Kurt is one of Kitty's favored suitors. There should be no need to fret over a friendly conversation between two members of the genteel class." Her carefully neutral words, devoid of any indignation or distress, served well their purpose in cutting off further speculation about the appropriateness of Kitty's pleasantly carefree behavior around Kurt, and Amara was quick to clear her throat and skillfully change the subject to one of her beaus in an effort to divert Tabitha's attention from her semi-confrontation with Jean. 

Kitty flashed her famous perky smile as Kurt returned with a slice of white vanilla cake on a carefully polished china dish, sweeping down in an exaggerated bow as he handed the pastry to her while trying his best to imitate a suave Parisian drawl, "Ze finest French dessert for ze finest French beauty here, Mademoiselle." Kitty couldn't resist rolling her eyes heavenward at his little show as she accepted the cake from him, reminding with a hint of silvery laughter in her voice, "Kurt, don't be silly, I'm no more French than you are!"   
"Ah, but zat is vhere Mademoiselle is wrong," Kurt corrected her gallantly. "Your sister's married to zat Frenchman now, isn't she? Zat makes you French by law. I think." Kitty hid a smile at his explanation.   
"Kurt, that is the most ridiculous logical reasoning I've ever heard in my entire life," she scoffed, playfully pinching him on the hand again and causing him to drop his hat which he'd been clutching as he'd dipped it in her direction. "Besides, Mr. LeBeau's Cajun, not French, and while we're on the subject of my sister's husband, that is the absolute worst imitation of his accent and mannerisms that I've ever had the bad luck of witnessing!" A mock hurt expression appeared over Kurt's features, as he dramatically clapped his hand to his heart and lamented with embellished heartbreak, "Ah, so it _is_ true--in your eyes I could never be ze gallant and enigmatic foreign cavalier zat Remy LeBeau vas to your sister! My hopes of vooing you are now completely shattered! Ruined beyond repair! Broken! Crushed! Devastated! Er...vhat's another synonym for destroyed? Oh, yeah, destroyed!" Kitty had collapsed into merry peals of laughter by then, her cornflower-blue eyes dancing as she protested, "Please, stop! You know it's utterly inappropriate for a lady to be guffawing like some jolly old field hand!" A wicked grin lit up Kurt's face, as he teased, "And just think of how people vill react if zey find out ze charming and demure Miss Jean's youngest sister is running around hooting like a field hand!" Kitty lightly slapped him in the arm.   
"They _won't_ find out, if a certain immature little prankster doesn't go telling everybody," she threatened with a half-hearted attempt at the meanest scowl she could manage. Kurt covered his heart with his hat, mustering up the most sincere expression he could think of while swearing solemnly, "I promise I von't, Miss Keety. After all, I _do_ value my life above even ze prettiest girl in ze South," he added under his breath. Kitty turned as pink as the tiny tea roses tucked into her hair at the last part of his sentence, which she felt he'd spoken loud enough for everybody around them to hear. To cover up her embarrassment, she turned her face away and let her hair partially cover her blush as she mumbled, "Oh, Kurt, that is so trite and foolish," while slapping him on the back with more force than she realized she had in an attempt to delicately push him away. Kurt winced and nearly toppled over from the strength of what his pretty companion had intended to be a light and dainty push, deliberately making a show of crossing his eyes comically as he fell face first onto the blanket, much to the delight of the younger Guthrie children, who'd been watching this exchange with barely concealed interest. 

Also watching in interest were Tabitha, Amara, and Jean, with the former two commenting that if Kurt was trying to propose to Kitty, then he might as well just admit it and get the whole process over with.   
"After all," Tabitha was saying, pushing away her half-eaten plate of biscuits and fried chicken, "we all know your sister's going to end up marrying him sooner or later, anyway. Look at how close they've been, ever since childhood, before he even became one of her beaus." Amara daintily tasted a slice of strawberry tart, sighing dreamily, "She's right, Jean--it's like those two were meant to be together since they were born." Tabitha nodded with her usual breezy enthusiasm, flashing a winning smile at her supporter while adding, "And besides, you know your father will be pleased at such a match. At the very least, far more pleased than he was at your other sister's choice of husband." Jean shot the blonde vixen a sharp look for her carefully snuck in jeer, but eventually conceded, "Yes, there isn't a match that the county won't approve of more than Kurt and Kitty--that is, _if_ they decide they want to spend the rest of their lives together. A marriage takes far more than just a friendly relationship between the couple to work."   
"Yeah, we know, they have to understand each other's minds and souls, and all those other lovely precautions," Tabitha rolled her eyes, remembering Jean and Pietro's excuse for backing out of their marriage at the last minute. "But I still say that Kurt should just stop fidgeting around and propose to Kitty already, before one of these days some other fellow swoops in and--"   
"Hush, all of you!" Wanda broke in irritably, obviously annoyed by what she deemed as frivolous, girlish talk of suitors and weddings. "They're coming this way; _do_ try to have more sense than talk about them as if they're not around to hear every word." 

Amara and Jean quieted down immediately, the former a bit intimidated by Wanda's sharp words and sharper glare, the latter relieved that attention would now be shifted away from her youngest sister's affairs. But Tabitha, as Kurt and Kitty headed merrily toward them, wasn't held back by such precautions, and she wasted no time in remarking with pointed casualness as soon as they were within hearing range, "Say, Kitty, didn't Bobby Drake call on you yesterday to offer a marriage proposal?" A slightly confused expression peeked over Kitty's features at Tabitha's choice of conversation, even as the pert blonde herself carefully watched Kurt's face for any signs of jealousy while masking her forwardness with a look of utmost innocence.   
"Yes, he did, as a matter of fact," Kitty finally admitted with a shrug of her slim shoulders, and a lightning frown blazed across Kurt's features as he turned around and looked at her upon her confirmation.   
"And I'm afraid I had to turn him down, as is appropriate of all first-time proposals, even though Bobby acted very sweetly during our carriage ride," Kitty continued. "Although he _did_ reveal that he's retained that charming tendency of his to crack boisterous jokes that are both indelicate and quite unfunny."   
"It's a shame, really, that your other suitors, despite being great in numbers, are still even less debonaire so as to make you actually consider Bobby's proposal," Tabitha fluttered her eyelashes with a sigh, then hinted meaningfully, "If only there were a knight in shining armor for you, perhaps even right under your own nose, who would come calling with a marriage proposal..."   
"Miss Keety," Kurt suddenly broke in, speaking in a hurried rush of sentences and occasionally tripping over his words, "if you need someone to escort you to ze Maximoff ball next Sunday, I'll be more zan happy to--" 

A sudden rush of hooves and discordant echo of neighs broke into his words, as a short cremelo burst into view from out of the evergreen forest, its rider quickly reining it in and halting to a stop in front of Jean and Kitty. Evan Daniels, the nephew of Miss Ororo and a carpenter's apprentice on the Xavier plantation, hastily leapt off his horse and dashed over to the two Young Misses, calling out in a voice punctuated by sharp gasps for air that revealed he'd left in a great hurry, "Miss Jean...Miss Kitty...go back to the plantation!" Jean and Kitty quickly stood up, gathering their rustling hoop skirts around them with the elder calmly walking over to Evan and asking in a soft, soothing voice, "Evan, is something the matter?" while her sister fretted over what sorts of emergencies and disasters might be plaguing her family's plantation so as to require her immediate return. By then, Evan had regained both his breath and his composure, and he now explained in more coherent words, "Auntie O sent me to escort you back home...and you too, Miss Maximoff," turning in Wanda's direction and adding, "Mr. Maximoff said it isn't safe for his only daughter to be socializing without his personal supervision, when rumors are running rampant about their imminent arrival in this county." Jean looked relieved that some terrible catastrophe hadn't befallen her home and family, the way Evan's initial tone of voice seemed to suggest, while a curious Kitty asked, "Who are they?" Wanda, meanwhile, had risen stoically when informed of her father's wishes, and now snapped with poorly-concealed ire, "Scarlet and I aren't going anywhere just because my father thinks he can control my every move," referring to her fleet-footed strawberry mare, the fastest in three counties, whose ability to outrun even the dauntless Scott Summers's palomino stallion was a source of great pride to her mistress. A dismayed look came over Evan's features when he realized that Wanda Maximoff wasn't about to be cajoled into obeying her father's command any time soon, but before he could dredge up a way to inveigle the headstrong raven-haired beauty into coming home, Jean spoke up, repeating Kitty's question.   
"Evan," she asked with her usual undaunted calm, "who are these people arriving at this county today that have Miss Ororo and Mr. Maximoff so concerned for our safety?" Evan shrugged, absently scratching the back of his head as he tried to recall his aunt's hasty words of explanation before sending him off on his task.   
"I'm not sure, I can't really remember all the details since I was in such a rush," he began uncertainly, but the strong, silent smile on Jean's face helped ease away his hesitation and he continued with more confidence, "I believe Auntie O and Mr. Maximoff mentioned something about a gang of desperadoes who're rumored to be coming into this county at any given hour between today and next week, and they're very concerned about your safety should the rumors prove to be true."   
"Sounds rather exciting," Tabitha, who'd been lounging around keeping one ear on their conversation and the other half-heartedly listening to Amara go on about her suitors, spoke up casually with an idle smile.   
"And rather reasonable, as well, about Miss Ororo's wishes for us to go home, Kitty," Jean mused thoughtfully. "Where's the carriage?"   
"We came with Amara and her mother, remember?" Kitty reminded her nervously, smoothing back her hair and glancing around at the carefree picnic scene with a longing look on her face. She'd wanted to stay much longer than just a couple of hours, and she didn't see any reason why her socializing should be cut short simply because of mere county gossip. _Why, everybody ought to know by now how outrageous and far-off these rumors can be..._   
"Miss Maximoff?" Evan had never been quite sure how to refer to Pietro Maximoff's twin sister, and since quite frankly her acute demeanor and chilly glare intimidated him, he usually opted for the most formal of titles whenever addressing her. "Are you going to return to your plantation as well? Mr. Maximoff said--" Wanda's icy blue eyes narrowed angrily, and she gritted out, "Like I already informed you, I'm not about to be jerked around to adjust to my father's wishes. I'll stay as long as I like." Her tone of voice was final, leaving no room for arguments or compromises, and Evan turned helplessly toward Miss Jean, who was usually able to find a way to reason with others. To his surprise, the statuesque redhead today saw no reason to interfere with Wanda's decision, as she gave in amiably, "That's your choice Wanda, but please make sure to return safely once you do decide to go home." Turning to Kitty, she added, "We should probably go back to the plantation right now, Kitty. Go ask Amara; I do believe she'll want to return as well once she hears about the outlaws." Kitty shrugged, but obediently walked the few steps toward Amara, who was still nattering on about her latest beau, and tapped her on the shoulder to talk. 

* * *

**That Same Day, California**

Outside, a blue-uniformed guard was calling out in a booming bass, "All aboard!" cupping his hands around his mouth to increase the sound of his voice. Inside the newly remodeled white-and-gray train, a young man with dark, rugged good looks and longish brown hair strolled at a leisurely pace down the hallway of the near-empty first class car, stopping in front of a distinguished-looking, silver-haired gentleman reading a newspaper. Leaning down, hands shoved inside the pockets of his long, black coat, the darkly handsome youth, who appeared to be no older than twenty, asked in a voice with a deliberate politeness that poorly hid the sneering flippancy behind it, "Excuse me, good sir, but would you mind if I take this seat?" The gentleman barely glanced up from his newspaper, a small frown darkening his face at being so rudely talked to as he replied automatically, "No, it's reserved." _Obviously for people with more class and money than you, _his tone of voice finished silently for him. The dark-haired boy took his answer in stride.   
"Oh. I'm sorry to hear that." His words were deceptively quiet as he spoke, and before the older man had a chance to glance up, a huge, rough paw had reached over from seemingly nowhere and locked around his neck in a painful, vise-like grip, hoisting him several feet off the ground and nearly choking the air out of his windpipes.   
"For you see," the youth continued calmly, as the silver-haired gentleman coughed and kicked his feet feebly about, "reservations mean nothing to the Brotherhood when we've got a contract to carry out." And he turned to the coarse, long-haired blonde behemoth beside him, who was still dangling his elderly captive in the air. After a few more minutes of watching the desperate gentleman struggle, the dark-haired youth finally give his comrade a vaguely meaningful look, at which the feral giant easily flung his victim out of the window just as the train started moving. 

As the train slowly but steadily rolled out of the station, the doors of the car burst open and two more figures lumbered in while their dark-haired leader, ironically the youngest amongst the motley crew, casually flopped down into the seat previously occupied by the gentleman, stretching out his feet over the table with a cockily calculating air that indicated he felt he now owned this room. The older of the new arrivals took a seat opposite him, crossing his bulging arms across his powerfully-muscled chest while growling in words harshened by his cold Russian accent, "I do not t'ink this was such a good way to acquire transportation. That old man is probably calling the police right this minute." His dark-haired associate indolently raised one eyebrow in the tall Russian's direction, the crooked devil-may-care smirk on his lips speaking louder than words, before he leaned back and tossed his head on the rim of his seat, crossing his long legs on the table and lazily lowering a cowboy hat over his face to shut out the bright morning sunlight while he took a nap, as the train steadily traveled on from California to its intended destination--Mississippi. 


	2. Chapter Two

Ororo glanced out of the carriage window at the darkening late afternoon sky with a concerned expression on her face, saying quietly, "I'm not quite sure how wise it is to bring the girls along to the train station and receive this guest of yours, Mr. Xavier. After all, the rumors _do_ state that those outlaws could be coming into this county anytime this week--who knows, they might even be arriving today, on the very same train as your friend." As Kitty and Jean exchanged startled looks at this prospect, their father murmured, "There's no need to take such extreme precautions, Miss Ororo. If the Brotherhood, as I believe they're calling themselves, really _are _coming into this county, even today, then I'm sure our capable police force will be more than ready to take the necessary actions upon their rumored arrival--that is, _if_ they even come here at all. We both know how unreliable county gossip can be." Ororo looked like she wanted to say something about that particular fact, but at that moment, the coachman reined in his horses to a stop, signaling that they'd arrived at the train station, and Xavier added lightly with a brief smile as his driver opened the carriage doors and helped out first Kitty, then Jean, "Besides, I stand firm in my belief that nobody--not even the Brotherhood--can do any harm to my daughters when you're around, Miss Ororo." Ororo herself managed a smile at those words, as she admitted, "Yes, I suppose I _have_ become quite protective of them...especially now that Miss Rogue's no longer around, and they've become the only two girls I've got left." Xavier cleared his throat awkwardly upon mention of his second daughter's name, agreeing in a somewhat distracted tone of voice, "Yes, er, of course." Ororo looked rather uncomfortable, as if suddenly realizing that she'd forgotten Rogue and her whereabouts was a subject the family usually tried to steer clear of during conversations, but an understanding look from Xavier helped ease the awkwardness, and after a few more seconds she obligingly took the coachman's hand and stepped out of the carriage, followed closely by the family patriarch. 

Jean and Kitty were already milling about, exchanging greetings and small talk with some neighbors from the county who'd come to the station to pick up friends or relatives arriving on the incoming trains. Jean had drifted into a respectful conversation with Mrs. Summers about her oldest son, Scott, and how well his studies at Yale University had been going ever since he'd left the county last fall to pursue a career in law. Kitty, meanwhile, tuned out their quiet discussion in preference of Tabitha's excited chatter about how her favored suitor was coming on one of these trains, all the way from the University of South Carolina, just to visit her...never mind the fact that the reason he'd received this welcome little break so that he might return to court Tabby was because he'd gotten expelled from said university for brawling and public drunkenness, Kitty thought with a little grin. As soon as she found herself smiling at this idea, she instantly began to chastise herself, knowing that it wasn't right for a true lady to feel any degree of amusement over something as crude and boorish as being kicked out of college for fighting and disorderly conduct. And yet, she'd always been so petted and carefully sheltered, would always be the plantation's overprotected Baby Sister, that she couldn't help but feel a secret thrill to hear of bad boys and their outrageous escapades. A twinge of guilt overwhelmed her when she caught herself for the second time in five minutes with these unrefined thoughts running through her head, and for a moment she could almost feel the disapproval of her father, Miss Ororo, and even Jean, should they ever find out that baby sister Kitty was fascinated by the boisterous gallantry of bad boys. To get her mind off her conflicting emotions, Kitty discreetly wandered away from Tabitha and her proud tales of her beau's dashingly rowdy antics, unwittingly leaving her sister and father behind as well as she delicately picked her way through the crowds. 

Kitty leisurely walked alongside the length of the station, stopping to greet a few familiar faces as she waited for the next train to arrive. When it finally did, propelled furiously by its powerful steam engine, its wheels clanging as they ground against the hard, metallic railroad tracks, Kitty couldn't help but give a little shriek and instinctively jump back. Trains always did have this effect on her, even though she'd traveled countless journeys before on them, and it was this timid fear of trains that was the subject of constant torment and teasing by the county boys, as well as Tabitha whenever she chanced to remember it.   
"Kitty, don't tell me you're still terrified by trains stopping at stations," a familiar feminine voice spoke up, and Kitty whirled around to recognize Amara standing a couple of feet beside her, long mahogany-colored hair primly brushed away from her face as usual. Kitty colored faintly at being caught, and tried to think of a way to defend her little fear as the massive train ground to a stop and passengers began pouring out.   
"I'm not terrified by them," she stammered, as the door of the compartment nearest her opened and people began crowding past her to greet their loved ones on that car. "I was just startled, that's all..." Her voice trailed off, as the desire to avoid Amara's knowing smile overtook her embarrassment and she shifted her attention to the nearest passengers exiting the train. Kitty tuned out the other brunette's words as she started speaking in response to her excuse, craning her neck to see around the crowds and catching a very quick glimpse of two behemoths who stood out like beacons, one a grossly overweight boy with a shaved head, the other a burly giant with unkempt, dirty blonde hair and a coarse beard, lumbering out of the train.   
"...Of course, everybody has their little phobias..." Amara prattled on, her words barely registering with Kitty as she watched, fascinated, the next passenger to descend from the train. He was, like the bearded blonde giant, extremely tall and powerfully-built, almost too much so to be considered refined, with his hard, compact muscles and heavy square shoulders enforcing an intimidating air about him. His hair, closely cropped, was of a deep black color, tinted with dark blue like Kurt's, and his eyes, when sweeping their surroundings as they did now, seemed to drill holes through everybody and everything with their icy cold glint. These same eyes temporarily settled on Kitty, even as they surveyed everybody else at the train station, and to her it seemed as though they narrowed in an unpleasantly cold glare that sent chills through her body. She unwittingly shivered under this lightning-fast glower, despite the warm cashmere shawl thrown neatly around her shoulders, but fortunately Amara failed to notice this slight tremble, even as the powerfully-built stranger walked away and disappeared into the crowds. Kitty shivered for the last time, then pulled her shawl tighter around her slender form and murmured to Amara, "I think I had better go back to my family. I'm sure Papa's guest has arrived by now, and they're probably looking for me." Amara, waiting for the arrival of a relative from Arizona on the next train, shrugged and replied, "Sure, suit yourself." Kitty nodded and turned to walk away, but something inside told her to spare one last glance at the near-empty train compartment, and reluctantly she stopped and obeyed, feeling almost afraid to look after her encounter with the muscular dark-haired stranger. 

One last passenger was descending from the compartment, dressed in a long black coat over his starched shirt and riding breeches and walking with a confident, almost cocky gait as though he owned the entire train and everyone in it. He, like the cold-eyed colossus before him, was also tall of height and strapping of physique, but where the previous man had hard and powerful muscles, this youth boasted instead a leaner, more chiseled frame. His dark eyes glinted mischievously from underneath a longish, rather unruly mane of dark brown hair, and the cowboy hat he held so carelessly underneath one arm, coupled with his tan that was unlike that of Southern boys, drilled a single thought into Kitty's mind. _Why, he looks like a cowboy,_ she thought as she watched him saunter with clear self-assurance through the crowds after the general direction of the dark-haired leviathan who'd glared so coldly at her. _I wonder if he's from the West..._she thought silently to herself, having completely forgotten that Amara was only a few feet away as she gazed at the darkly handsome stranger, so different from his fearsomely wintry predecessor with his impishness and swagger. Suddenly, his mischievous dark gaze caught her slender form, and his eyes crinkled at the corners into an amused grin when he realized that she'd been staring at him for quite some time. A horrified Kitty felt her face flush hot with embarrassment when she saw that he'd noticed her gawking openly at him, but for some reason she failed to immediately and meekly drop her eyes down to the floor like she should have done the minute his gaze swept upon her. Instead, she shyly kept her eyes focused on his face, extremely self-conscious but also feeling a secret flash of thrill as she anticipated how he would react next. His response became evident a few seconds later, when he grinned devilishly at her in passing, throwing a wink over his shoulder before disappearing into the crowds. Kitty knew she must be as pink as the lacy flounces decorating her hoop skirts, and finally dropped her eyes only when the dark-haired youth had disappeared from sight. 

Unfortunately, Amara had also caught the wink, and now she turned to Kitty, lips tightened into a disapproving frown as she scolded, "Kitty, who was that gentleman--ugh, if he can even be called that after what he did--that...that...just _winked_ at you?" Kitty shrugged, carefully smoothing down her own long brown hair as though primping to meet a highly desirable suitor.   
"I don't know," she admitted, catching her mistake only when Amara's eyebrows nearly flew off her hairline and she declared in a voice almost too loud with indignation to be considered ladylike, "Why, Kitty, do you realize how utterly inappropriate that was, with that uncouth and downright common-looking young man--and a stranger at that--just winking at you as if you were some sort of low-class saloon girl?" Kitty felt a flash of annoyance tear through her as she turned to face Amara and defended the dark-haired stranger, "He doesn't look unrefined to me...and even if that gesture wasn't completely fitting, there's still no need to get this upset over it. What's done is done." A stunned Amara leaned back at these heated words, her mouth forming a small O of surprise as she stammered, "But...but Kitty...you're not telling me that you find that man--"   
"Of course not," Kitty broke in quickly, suddenly remembering the scandal that Rogue's unexpected elopement with Mr. LeBeau had caused. She certainly didn't need the entire state of Mississippi gossiping behind languidly swishing palmetto and turkey tail fans about how Xavier's youngest daughter was already showing signs of following in her sister's footsteps. "I...er, just don't see the need to get so offended over one harmless little wink. I have to go now, but I'll see you at the Maximoff ball this Sunday, all right? Bye." And she quickly darted away before Amara could shoot any further opinions or disapproving looks in her direction. 

* * *

A tall, distinctively male figure prowled the Xavier plantation grounds, having long passed the endless acres of cotton and corn fields and now stepping effortlessly around the dainty clusters of daisies and heathers that grew on the orchard grounds. Reaching up, he idly picked a dark red apple from the nearest leafy branch, twirling it around on his index finger for a couple of times before snapping it back and polishing it against the sleeve of his coat. Raising the apple to his lips, he took a leisurely bite, chewing and casually observing the stately white mansion that rose at the end of an avenue of tall oaks. 

Kitty held up first a pink watered silk ball gown, then a delicate seafoam-green taffeta one, pressing each garment against the skirts and flounces of the dress she was currently wearing as she examined herself critically in the mirror.   
"Hmm, let's see...pink or blue-green?" she mumbled to herself, trying to decide on which dress to wear to the Maximoff ball on Sunday and only half-listening to her sister worriedly discussing the mysterious disappearance of a valuable cargo of gold from the very same train their father's associate was supposed to have arrived on.   
"The entire county is very upset at the way the police had arranged for proper security for the shipment," Jean was saying, only somewhat aware that she was speaking more to herself than to her inattentive sister. "By the time they finally discovered the cargo was missing, most of the passengers had already gotten off the train and left the station--" 

A swift pattering of feet halted any further words, and Kitty, having already forgotten Jean's news about the train robbery, crossed her room on delicate satin slippers and poked her head out the door, asking the little chambermaid who'd been in the process of dashing down the stairs, "Is there an emergency of some sort? Should we send someone to the Sinclair plantation for Papa?" Briefly, she lamented that Charles Xavier just had to pick today of all days to buy half a dozen stallions from Mr. Sinclair's horse-breeding farm, and the young maid's next words only proved her point as she explained breathlessly, "Th' overseer caught a young man stalking th' plantation! He's at th' front door right now!" Jean looked truly shocked for one of the very few times in her life, as she questioned in a die-away whisper, "Mr. Logan did? Right now?" Kitty pushed past her, flying down the stairs in a blur of skirts and ribbons and causing her sister to cry out after her in dismay, "Kitty! What do you think you're doing?" Kitty didn't bother to stop or even slow her steps, as she tossed a brief answer over her shoulder, "Going downstairs." Jean bit down on her lip, mentally debating how wise it would be to follow her, then called reluctantly, "Wait, I'll come with you," when she decided that the least she could do was not let her sister see this desperado alone. 

Miss Ororo was already at the doors when Kitty and Jean arrived, having been called in from the smokehouse where she'd been distributing lunch to the field hands, and was now talking with the plantation overseer, Logan, in hushed, serious-sounding whispers.   
"You mean to tell me that this young man got as far as the yucca trees under Miss Kitty's windows before somebody finally spotted him?" Ororo's voice sounded both fretful and indignant as she interrogated the overseer, who admitted his blunder with a gruff nod. Kitty, peeking out from behind the tall, elegant woman's shoulders, felt a shiver instinctively go through her at the thought that this prowler had made it so close, so personally close to her house and bedroom--and then she glanced over at the young man Logan was roughly clutching and drew in her breath sharply. _Why...that's the young man from the train station, the one who winked at me just yesterday,_ she recalled, feeling as though the wind had been knocked out of her as she stared in disbelief at the now familiar features and tousled long dark hair. He, perhaps sensing that her eyes were now fixed upon him in bewildered recognition, turned his head in her direction, an amused grin flickering on his face when he identified the pretty brunette, before he once again flashed an impish wink in her direction. Jean noticed this and gave her suddenly blushing sister a questioning look, but Miss Ororo, thankfully, failed to catch the gesture in her concern over an intruder on the plantation.   
"Young man, what were you doing here?" she questioned sternly, fixing her blue eyes on his own dark ones in a no-nonsense glare. The youth shrugged insolently in reply, before his eyes once again flicked briefly over to Kitty and a grin began to tug at the corners of his mouth.   
"A little birdie told me that two of the prettiest roses in the Deep South are hidden here at this plantation, so I came to confirm that..." His eyes trailed playfully toward a certain petite brunette, and he added with a broad smile, "And I can see that my friend was certainly right." Kitty knew, dismayed, that her face must be burning as crimson as Miss Ororo's prided fuchsia garden, and rapidly lowered her eyes to the ground in an effort to ignore the curious glances everybody else was shooting in her direction. Remembering that when he'd spoken, his words had lacked the pleasantly drawling cadences of most Southerners, an idea suddenly occurred to her. _Why, I wonder if he's..._   
"Must be a damn Yankee, judging by the way he talks--pardon my language, ladies," Logan gruffly voiced the thought that was going through Kitty's mind, then turned to glare at the handsome youth and snapped, "Well, are you bub?"   
"Perhaps," the youth shot back impertinently. "Or perhaps I'm from the West, or from Canada...is there any particular reason I should tell you, of all people?" Logan's eyebrows began to twitch dangerously at his goading, as he violently grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and shook a fist in front of his face while growling brusquely, "Oh, I'll give you a reason..." 

"Oh, no, please!" an imploring feminine voice suddenly cut in, causing all heads to turn to the speaker and Logan to drop the trespasser in his surprise. Kitty flushed under all the incredulous eyes fastened on her, stumbling through her words as she struggled to defend Mr. Winking Eyes. "Please...he didn't do any damage to this plantation...I mean, he could have stolen several of our horses or burned our cotton if he'd wanted to, if what you said about him not getting caught for so long is true, Mr. Logan...Please, won't you just let him go? I'm sure he doesn't mean any harm if he hasn't caused any troubles by now." Logan hesitated, fist still tightened around his captive's shirt, but finally faltered under Kitty's plaintive look and released the boy with a rough push.   
"Don't let me see you around this plantation again, bub," he growled harshly in an effort to cover up his moment of softness, as his detainee started ambling away...but not before flashing one last grin at Kitty.   
"Thanks for saving my life there," he told her, adding, "You're a sweet little sister." Kitty, who'd been gazing after his departing figure, now quickly lowered her lashes toward the ground, avoiding both his laughing dark eyes and the questioning--and rather disapproving--looks of both Jean and Miss Ororo. 

* * *

"Your move."   
Fred J. Dukes absently scratched at the short blonde fuzz growing from the middle of his head, before taking an ace of clubs from his set of cards and placing it on the table.   
"I think this means I win," the extremely large teen said sheepishly, shrugging as if to admit his ignorance of the rules and then wincing when Victor Creed, the grungy blonde behemoth who was his opponent, scowled and knocked down the table with a feral growl. Piotr Rasputin, standing by a window and gazing outside without really looking at anything, turned around at this disturbance and merely shook his head with an annoyed flick, while Freddy ventured nervously, "Gee, guess this means you don't take defeat very well, huh?" to be answered by a glare and a snarl from Creed. 

Before hostilities could fully arise, the doors to the dingy boardinghouse slammed open and a tall, masculine figure filled the frame, whistling tunelessly and strutting into the room at a unhurriedly self-assured pace. The three men already inside drew themselves to their full heights when he entered, and Piotr was the first one to speak as he asked in his usual chilly intonation, "Well? What did you find out?"   
"Your sources were right," came the prompt reply, accompanied by an insolent smirk. "There are two of them at the plantation, both easily of marriageable age."   
"And who of these "marriageable two" are we going to use?" Piotr demanded, a hint of impatience roughening his words. An idle shrug of both shoulders answered his words, before their owner spoke in a deceptively quiet voice, "We'll use the younger one, the brunette. She seems to be the more naïvely kind-hearted--and far more easily persuaded--of the two." 


	3. Chapter Three

There he was again. The stranger from the train station, the same one Logan had threatened to slice to pieces if he ever caught him at the Xavier plantation again. Kitty shaded her eyes with one hand, watching in interest as the darkly handsome youth jumped his fierce-looking black stallion across a wide river--and barebacked, too! As she watched him casually ride off after completing the jump, she silently wondered whether, ever since that fateful day at the plantation, he was deliberately showing up wherever she went...or whether it was merely feminine vanity on her part that was turning plain coincidences into something more meaningful.   
"...I do think he was trying to propose, but you know how shy Sam can get when it comes to these things, and besides, we are both a bit young to get married, anyway--why, he's barely even seventeen, and I won't be turning fifteen for another month," Rahne was confiding to Amara and Tabitha a couple of paces in front of her. "In fact, now that I can reflect about it, I believe it was more of a courtesy proposal than anything else--you know, after I fell down from my horse last week and he had to carry me home in his arms."   
"You're probably right there," Amara analyzed, while Tabitha laughed cheerfully and freely admitted, "No kidding--the county was in an uproar when word got out about your little moment with Mr. Guthrie there, Rahne."   
"Oh, Tabby, you say the most tactless things," the pretty Irish girl protested, blushing furiously, but there was nevertheless a pleased sparkle in her grass-green eyes as she remembered that particular evening with Sam, who, usually so awkward and timid whenever any physical contact with a girl was involved, had acted like the sweetest and most respectful gentleman in the world when he'd carried her home. Kitty, for whom this kind of conversation would have usually held the utmost interest, now tuned out the other girls' eager chatter as she observed instead the stranger and his horse, straining her eyes to catch the last glimpse of his form as he slowly left her range of view.   
"...In fact, I'm surprised that hothead hasn't gotten hauled off to jail by now; he should really learn to control his temper better--and his trigger too, for that matter--and as for..." Tabitha's voice drifted back to her, and Kitty glanced up with a start, realizing that she'd straggled behind the group, despite the efforts of their chaperone. Kitty knew she should strive to catch up and forget all about the stranger...but then her eyes drifted wistfully back toward him, as she remembered all the times she'd seen him around the county and all the times she'd told herself she would approach him and introduce herself only to back out at the last minute from cowardice, and told herself that now was as good time as any to at least find out his name. Sparing one last look at her friends, slowly riding away and too caught up in their talk of beaus and proposals to notice that a certain chestnut-haired member of their group had drifted off, Kitty bit down on her lower lip before softly clucking at her little mare to set off in the direction of the stranger, immensely grateful that Tabitha's chaperone was as carefree--and careless--as Tabitha herself when she failed to realize one of her charges had slipped off elsewhere. 

Kitty rode around the rolling green acres in vain, wondering where he could be and mentally kicking herself for having followed him in the first place. She frowned as she slapped away some dewy foliage blocking her view, then stiffened when a distinctly male voice casually spoke up, so suddenly and from seemingly nowhere that she nearly let a branch hit her right in the face in her surprise.   
"Hey, it's the sweet little sister from the Xavier plantation," the now familiar voice drawled in languid tones different from any Southern accent Kitty had ever heard. Feeling a wave of guilt and embarrassment wash over her, Kitty turned her horse around until she could see him, lounging casually atop his own coal-colored mount and grinning down at her. His lips parted as his hand moved up to remove a straw dangling from their corners, flicking it away before he spoke again.   
"How nice to see you under more pleasant circumstances, sweet little sister...and how pretty you look," he complimented, throwing that now all too familiar wink at her blushing form seated on her mare. "Dare I hope a respectable young country belle like you actually came here just to look for Yankee riffraff like myself?" Kitty turned even pinker, and she quickly lowered her face to the ground, sensing rather than seeing that his eyes were now fixed on her face, following her every movement.   
"I...er...didn't know you were a Northerner," she finally stammered when she found her voice, opting for the more respectful term for his kind of people, much to his amusement.   
"Well, I am. Born in Illinois, but hitchhiked West during the California gold rush of '49--I believe I was actually a couple of years younger than you are right now when I set out for the desert to make my fortune," he admitted carelessly. "Say, I don't believe I caught your name...unless you'd prefer I just keep calling you sweet little sister?" Why was it that she couldn't stop blushing around this guy? Kitty wondered helplessly to herself, even as she heard a voice that must be her own faintly answer, "It's Kitty...and yours?"   
"Kitty," he repeated to himself, then grinned and added, "A very pretty name for a very pretty girl."   
"Thank you," Kitty smiled, despite herself, feeling some of her old confidence come back as she looked up and prodded playfully, parroting his earlier words, "You still haven't told me your name...unless you'd prefer I just call you Yankee cowboy?"   
"Don't let the chaps and hat fool you--I'm no cowboy, just been living in the West for too long," he told her. "And as for my name, it's, er...Dominic Petros."   
"No, it's not," Kitty accused pleasantly, a wide smile spreading across her face when she saw the surprise flash across his eyes. "You can stop lying and tell me your real name--men like you simply aren't called Dominic Petros. Besides, I can tell you're not Greek."   
"Sure I am," he defended himself, then added as if to prove his heritage, "Um, dulce et...something--see, I'm Greek."   
"That was Latin," Kitty corrected him, still smiling. "So when are you going to tell me your real name?" His face fell, cowboy hat lowering itself over his tousled dark hair, before he lifted his head and admitted, "Kay, I might as well tell you my real name--but you've got to promise not to tell anyone else, all right? To you, I'm just...well, I'll think of a better _nom de plume,_ but in the meantime, I'm just that damn Yankee who broke into the Xavier plantation--oh, sorry for my coarse speech, it just fell out." Kitty nodded, wide-eyed that he was swearing her to secrecy over something as simple as his name. Just what was so important about it, anyway...?   
"It's Lance," he said earnestly, absently scratching the back of his head, and this time Kitty could tell by his eyes that he was telling the truth. "Lance Alvers. Promise you won't tell?" His eyes sought out hers and held them for an instant, and in that one moment she would have promised him the moon if she could reach it.   
"I won't tell," she breathed in a voice barely above a whisper, a sudden shyness washing over her that made her lower her eyes and avert his gaze. "But Lance...why all this secrecy?" Lance flashed a laid-back grin in response, and she couldn't tell whether he was joking or not when he drawled, "Because, pretty Kitty, I am wanted dead or alive--but preferably dead--in twenty-eight states all over America...and I can't say I'm in a particular rush to make Mississippi number twenty-nine." 

* * *

A heavy, tattered old sofa went flying through the air, smashing noisily against the wall and shattering the cracked window into a hundred pieces. Lance glanced up and rolled his eyes, sneering insolently, "We might have to pay for that, Rasputin...and come time to high tail it out of this state, I ain't gonna be pocketing the bills for this." Piotr, the one who'd thrown the sofa in his burst of rage, glared bitterly at his leader, who coldly returned the glower, before forcing himself to swallow both his pride and anger as he growled resentfully, "I just do not t'ink it was such a wise idea to reveal so much to this little girl. What are you going to tell her next--that you're the leader of the notorious Brotherhood gang? That there's a ten-t'ousand-dollar price tag on your head alone? That the only reason you're bothering yourself to even _look_ at her is because you plan to use her to--"   
"That's enough, Rasputin, God damn you," Lance snapped coldly. "I already told you, I had no choice but to tell her my real name--she was too smart to believe any aliases I could throw at her. Besides, I seriously doubt a country belle like pretty Kitty has ever heard the name Lance Alvers before, let alone that of the Brotherhood."   
"You said she was smart," Piotr pointed out sullenly. "What makes you t'ink she doesn't read the newspapers?"   
"For God's sake, Rasputin," Lance exploded, losing both his temper and jeering facade, "she's a woman! What's more, she's about as impressionable and eager-to-please as her namesake! What's more, she's the daughter of a planter-aristocrat! What makes you think girls like her read newspapers? All they care about are their dresses and their parties--girls like her don't take it upon themselves to worry their pretty little heads over outlaws and gunslingers!"   
"Even if she knows not'ing about the Brotherhood," Piotr gave in grudgingly, "you still had to show off by bragging about how we're wanted in twenty-eight states." Lance twirled the tip of his cowboy hat around on his index finger, as if demonstrating with that careless gesture how non-problematic that particular detail was.   
"Like I said," he drawled, his voice returning to normal from his earlier outburst, "she's a daddy's little princess--she can't possibly believe that, she's far too sheltered to know of any real evil in this world." 

* * *

Wanted! In over half the United States! Kitty fretted in anguish, tossing restlessly on her bed and tangling the sheets around her body. Had he been joking? He'd certainly uttered those words casually enough, almost too casually. His voice and body language had held the same boastful swagger of the county boys she knew so well whenever they were bragging and embellishing random acts of gallantry to impress her. _Perhaps that's it, _she told herself hopefully. _Yes, that must be it. Lance was just trying to impress me, that's all._ The very thought that someone like Lance--older than all her other suitors, darkly handsome, and intoxicatingly mysterious--was trying to impress a down-to-earth country girl like her brought an exciting tingle, even as the well-born lady in her tried to smart with both shame that she should be enthralled by such an unpredictable character like Lance Alvers, especially when she was as good as engaged to Kurt, as well as righteous anger that Lance would be so crude as to insinuate he was an outlaw just to try and impress her.   
"Either way, I know that he was just joking," she said aloud to herself, as convincingly as she could while pulling her sheets around her in an effort to get some sleep and forget about Lance. 

Her desires to rest and forget about Lance were soon both broken, when a small clinking sound attracted her attention less than five minutes after she'd persuaded herself into believing that Lance was merely joking about being wanted all over the country. Kitty frowned, half-rising from her bed, and cocked her head to listen, even as a second clink followed, in time with a small pebble lightly flying against her window. Now that she knew what the sound was, Kitty got up from bed and hastily tripped over to the window, half-sliding into her slippers but forgetting to pull a modest wrapper over her nightdress in her haste as she threw the heavy glass wide open and leaned out, her eyes eagerly scanning the darkness for the one who'd thrown the two pebbles.   
"Hello?" she half-whispered uncertainly, wondering who could be calling--and specifically on her--this late at night. Surely Kurt or Bobby were much too gentlemanly to just launch stones against her window, and would have gone directly to the front door and spoken to her father or Miss Ororo if they'd wanted to see her. Then that left only one person... 

Lance's familiar face met her eyes from amongst the tangle of jasmine vines and yucca trees that grew under her window, a boyishly lopsided grin accompanying his even more familiar wink and a third pebble being tossed into the air from the palm of one gloved hand.   
"Nice to see you again, pretty Kitty," he called up pleasantly, his smile growing wider as he added, "You seem to get more beautiful with each passing hour."   
"Oh." Kitty blushed softly under his praise, all her doubts about his standing with the law momentarily flying out of her head. "What are you doing here, Lance? Mr. Logan will kill you if he sees you here--"   
"Mr. Logan? Oh, he must be your grumpy Canuck of an overseer who tried to skewer me that morning, huh?" Lance quipped playfully. "Well, would it make me seem more dashing and romantic if I said I would risk getting slain by the whiskered dragon in torn denim, if only I could see you again, that I would die for your smile and--"   
"Lance, please stop," Kitty protested, blushing furiously. "You're getting to be just as bad as Kurt." A small flicker of unreadable emotion briefly flashed across Lance's eyes, before he asked devilishly, "Kurt? Who would that be? A suitor of yours that I'd have to duel to win your heart?"   
"As a matter of fact, yes," Kitty informed him coolly, trying to emulate Jean's elegantly quiet grace. "Now please, you must go away--this isn't appropriate, my talking to you like this in my nightgown."   
"And a very flattering nightgown it is, pretty Kitty," Lance agreed amiably. "You might however want to throw something over that, though--I may be no Southerner, but even I know that it's generally frowned upon for men to be looking at women in their night clothes." Kitty turned crimson, suddenly remembering that in her haste she'd forgotten to pull on a wrapper, and now she ducked as fast as she could behind her curtains, peeking out at Lance from there and whispering, "Just go, please...unless you have something very important to tell me?" Now where had she gotten the boldness to hint at that invitation for him to stay?   
"I do...but you must come down for me to tell you," Lance wagged his eyebrows with mock suggestiveness, while Kitty decided that if she blushed any more when around him, he might start wrongfully suspecting that she was tawdry and lowered herself to wearing rouge and powder.   
"I will do no such thing," she informed him, trying to freeze him right then and there with the utmost ladylike dignity. "Do you realize how scandalous that would be, climbing down here in my nightgown and meeting a gentleman without a chaperone?"   
"And do you realize how over-bred and old-fashioned Southern society is?" Lance playfully retorted. "Come on, pretty Kitty--I'm insulted that you even think I'd do anything inappropriate with you!"   
"Oh!" Kitty colored at his frankness, sputtering for excuses. "Well...I still won't do it. I don't care how prudish you think I am--"   
"Aw, come on, pretty Kitty," Lance coaxed again. "What harm could come out of it? I just want to talk to you. I really need your help on something..." His voice trailed off despondently, and Kitty hesitated, wavering under the suddenly forsaken look he gave her.   
"Can't it wait until tomorrow? I can meet you somewhere, I promise I will, and--" she started to suggest in a tiny voice, and below Lance smirked at himself, knowing that she was beginning to cave in. Kitty's excuses gradually died away, and she finally took a deep breath and asked, "Well, is it honestly that important?" A broad smile broke out on Lance's face at hearing that, and he replied by merely nodding. Kitty still hesitated, as refinement battled curiosity, with the latter emerging the victor when she huffily chastised herself, "I can't believe I'm doing this. Poor Miss Ororo, she'd be shocked if she knew." Lance's grin grew wider when he heard those words, before he tossed away his pebble and lithely scaled up the walls, wrinkling his nose slightly at the overwhelming fragrance of the droopy jasmines. Kitty leaned back in surprise at his swift agility, then smiled back and took the hand he offered her, teasing lightly as she started to carefully climb out of her window, "Such a gentleman." 

The two walked in amiable silence, Lance apparently preoccupied with his thoughts, Kitty too bashful of her current outfit to notice the slowly growing frown that had begun to appear over his features. When she finally spoke, it was to question him about another subject, as she inquired in a timid voice, "So, um...what exactly is it that you wanted to tell me?" Lance turned to face her, the frown quickly vanishing as he asked offhandedly, "Say, pretty Kitty, do you happen to know an Erik Magnus--?"   
"Oh, you must mean Mr. Maximoff--Pietro and Wanda's father. Why, of course I know about him--he's one of the most prominent citizens in the Deep South," Kitty assured him, wondering in puzzlement to herself why he would choose Mr. Maximoff as a topic of discussion.   
"Then you must know he's giving a ball this Sunday." Lance stopped walking, turning around to face her and causing her to halt as well.   
"Of course..." Kitty's voice drifted off, as realization suddenly dawned upon her. "Why, Lance Alvers, did you drag me down here just to ask me for a dance at the Maximoff party?"   
"What makes you think I was going to ask you for a dance?" Lance whistled innocently, and Kitty turned bright red at her bold assumption.   
"I...I..." she stammered, mortified and wishing she could turn on her heels and flee. But Lance was smiling--albeit in obvious amusement over her words--so it couldn't altogether be so bad, could it?   
"Don't be embarrassed, pretty Kitty, I've got at least good enough manners not to laugh at you--in fact, I rather like your spirit," he coaxed charmingly. "But I have to be honest, I didn't "drag you down here" for nothing--I was going to say that it would seem rather ungrateful on my part if I were to turn down the invitation to the party. However..."   
"However?" Kitty prodded, her injured vanity beginning to recover at his earlier reassurance. 

The two had resumed walking, when Lance suddenly stopped again.   
"Can you climb over this fence?" he asked out of the blue.   
"What?" Kitty looked startled at his abrupt change of subject, turning incredulous cornflower-colored eyes on him as Lance repeated calmly, "Well, there's a fence right in front of us; now, I can jump over it perfectly fine, but I don't know about you, pretty Kitty." As confusion slowly lifted from her features and understanding dawned upon them, Kitty gathered the flowing skirt of her white nightgown around her legs and huffed indignantly, "Of course I can't just scramble on over the fence like some little boy--a true lady never does such unrefined and masculine things!" Lance arched an eyebrow, teasing playfully, "Just like how a true lady would never let herself be cajoled into climbing out her bedroom window to meet a fellow, unchaperoned?" Kitty scowled, insulted, beginning to turn on her heels and stalk back to the mansion while grumbling sulkily, "Fine, I can see where you're getting at--I won't stand around and be insulted by you!" Lance hastily chased after her, grabbing her arm to stop her in her tracks and quickly withdrawing it when she turned around and frowned at the offending hand on her elbow.   
"Come on, pretty Kitty, I was just joking with you," he mumbled sheepishly, using the hand that had been on her arm to scratch absentmindedly at the back of his head. "Please don't go...What I meant to say was, there's no sense in walking the mile and a half around the fence, when we can easily climb over three or four feet of split oak railing, right?" Kitty hesitated, wavering under his sincere gaze, before giving in and complaining, "You're beginning to become a very bad influence on me, Mr. Alvers." Lance grinned carelessly in response as he led her toward the fence, easily jumping on top and then twisting around and offering his hand to her. Kitty hesitated, glancing up uncertainly at him, before impulsively taking his hand and allowing him to help her up. Neither of them noticed the faint tearing sound as they leapt down, he before her, although Lance quite probably heard it but chose to refrain from mentioning it until a more opportune moment. 

"However," Lance casually picked up where they'd left off as soon as they'd descended from the fence, "I'm afraid I'm not quite as familiar with Southern dances as I ought to be." Kitty began to frown as she realized where he was getting at, stopping abruptly and making him halt in his steps as well as she glared at him and guessed angrily, "So that's why you've wrangled me into coming here in the middle of the night--you wanted me to teach you dances so you wouldn't make a fool out of yourself at the ball Sunday evening, isn't it?" Lance was the picture of innocence as he replied, "Is that so terribly offending, pretty Kitty?" Kitty made an incomprehensible, and, she was afraid, quite unladylike growling sound of displeasure from the depths of her throat, as she huffed, "Yes it is, and it's also not so urgent and important as to drag me out of bed and make me break several unwritten laws of refinement and delicacy along the way! I'm going back!" And she pivoted on her heels and started to stomp off with her head held as dignifiedly high as possible.   
"Just to let you know, though, pretty Kitty," Lance's voice, full of laughter, called out after her. "Your nightgown has ripped and your legs are showing! In quite the refined fashion, though, of course!" Those words were enough to freeze her in her tracks, as Kitty's hands flew down toward the back of her legs and felt around there. Realizing that Lance was right and a wide tear had indeed practically slashed the lower half of her nightgown in two--no doubt received from when he'd cajoled her into jumping that fence, she thought angrily--she let out a strangled wail of humiliation and dismay and quickly turned around so that Lance wouldn't get an eyeful more of what he'd already seen, lacing her hands protectively over the torn part of her nightgown. Kitty raised mortified blue eyes up at Lance, wondering what she should do or say next, and when she saw the playful grin on his face, she reluctantly made her decision. 

Fifteen minutes later, Kitty, with Lance's long black coat tied protectively around her waist and over her tear, was trying to teach Lance the first steps of the Virginia reel. 

* * *

*A/N: Don't worry, all you Kurtty fans--I know this chapter was pure Lancitty, but the, well, not-so-blue-and-fuzzy dude in this case (he kind of has to be, considering we are talking about antebellum South here--if he were in his regular elf form, the poor guy would probably be lynched twenty times and then drowned in holy water! x_x) will definitely show up in the next chapter. See, Kurt's the nice, dependable suitor who'll always be there for Kitty, while Lance is just the bad boy who'll continuously pop up to encourage Kitty's more daring, less refined side. Ciao for now, and please review.* 


	4. Chapter Four

A sea of young belles in pretty, colorful hoop skirts and sparkling jewelry gathered around the elegantly decorated halls of the Maximoff mansion, among them Jean and Kitty, the latter being immediately greeted by Kurt upon her entrance.   
"Miss Keety, you look very pink," were the first words that came out of the dark-haired German-American boy's mouth, causing Kitty to arch an eyebrow questioningly at his dubious compliment. Kurt looked like he wanted to kick himself, as he added, flustered, "Uh, vhat I meant vas, your dress--it's very pink, and it makes _you_ look pink as vell, and uh..." Kitty hid a smile of amusement, but outwardly tried to uphold a look of mild indignation, causing Kurt to nervously pull at his collar and redouble his efforts to be charming.   
"...And, uh, so you look pink...and zat's a good thing, you see, because it means you're healthy..." Kurt's voice trailed off uncertainly, while Kitty struggled to hold in her laughter, when his eyes suddenly lit up and he added in a rush of words, "And you look very pretty too, Miss Keety."   
"Took you long enough," Kitty muttered in amusement under her breath, adding laughingly to herself, "Why is it that Lance can say I'm pretty as soon as he learns my name, and yet it takes Kurt nearly eighteen years to get the words right?"   
"Miss Keety? Who are you talking about?" Kurt gave her a look devoid of any visible jealousy but full of curiosity, and Kitty caught herself and stammered, "Er, nobody. Listen, Kurt, I--" 

At that moment, Tabitha sashayed up to the couple, dressed to kill in a stunning burgundy ball gown and flashing her brightest smile as she greeted merrily, "Why, if it isn't Mr. Kurt Wagner! And Kitty, how nice to see you, too." Before Kitty could get her own polite greeting out of her mouth, however, Tabitha had pushed herself in front of Kurt and begun teasing warmly, occasionally tapping his arms with her closed fan, "My, Mr. Wagner, how handsome you look tonight--although most of the credit should go to your dear mother, I suppose, for prohibiting you from wearing those awful mustard-colored breeches you seem so fond of. Either way, I'm delighted that you've finally arrived. This party wouldn't be the same without you, you know."   
"Eh...I'm very flattered, Miss Tabitha," Kurt replied nervously, tugging with some discomfort at the collar of his starched white shirt and darting a sideways glance at Kitty, who'd suddenly quieted down and moved a couple of paces away from him, the annoyed frown on her features clearly conveying her feelings. Kurt read her irritation and quickly turned back to face Tabitha, intent on disengaging himself from her in an effort to reconcile with Kitty, but the spirited blonde cut him off before he could squeeze in a single word, and happily carried on a mostly one-sided conversation for the next few minutes.   
"Don't you look like the ideal gentleman tonight; a girl would be lucky to consider you her suitor." She shot a significant look at Kitty when she said the last part of her sentence, and the latter barely swallowed the temptation to outright glare at the flirtatious blonde, who continued after a few moments during which Kurt laughed embarrassedly, "Vell, I'm flattered you think so highly of me, Miss Tabitha," while shooting apologetic looks at Kitty, who rolled her eyes and tilted her face in the opposite direction.   
"...But who am I kidding; a dashing gentleman like you would probably never spare a look at a simple girl like myself," Tabitha sighed dramatically, reaching up and tickling him under the chin before her eyes caught sight of another "dashing gentleman" across the room. Tossing back her hair and flashing her brightest smile, the pert blonde called out laughingly, "Ray? Ray Crisp, don't you look handsome tonight!" Turning back to Kurt, she tapped his arm with her fan one last time, adding, "I have to go now, but don't you wander off with some other pretty girl and forget all about little old me, because I want to dance the waltz with you tonight, all right, Kurt? Bye." And with a smile and flick of her hair, Tabitha was off, gliding across the polished floor after Ray and consciously rolling her hips so that the slenderness of her waist was emphasized and her deep wine-colored skirts swirled alluringly around her long legs. 

Without meaning to, Kurt gaped after Tabitha's retreating form disappearing amidst the sea of bright-as-verbena dresses, until a pointed clearing of the throat from Kitty snapped him out of his spell and he turned guiltily to the pretty brunette, feeling a wave of shame washing over himself as her blue eyes glared at him questioningly from under sharply arched eyebrows.   
"Tabby's quite the enchanting lady, isn't she?" were the first words that Kitty spoke, the deliberately saccharine tone of her voice making him cringe.   
"Er, Miss Keety...I didn't mean...I mean, ve veren't...You know how Miss Tabitha is, she flirts vith everybody..." he stammered nervously, again pulling at the collar of his crisp flaxen shirt until it was practically yanked right out.   
"Please don't be angry vith me, Miss Keety," he finished in a tiny voice. Kitty raised a hand to cover her smile, never having been too upset with him in the first place, but hearing the guiltily pleading note in his voice, she decided to have a little fun at his expense, anyway. Looking at him evenly in the eye, she conjured up her sulkiest pout and muttered with pseudo-sullenness, "Well, you _did_ hurt me very much, carrying on like that with a desirable blonde belle like Tabby..."   
"Yes--but you'll always be ze belle of ze ball in _my_ eyes, Miss Keety," Kurt quickly cut in, starting to babble desperately as Kitty toyed around with her hair and pretended not to believe him, "You're pink--I mean, beautiful--and, er, I'm a stupid fool to have ever even _looked_ at Miss Tabitha, who vill never be as pink--beautiful, I mean--as you, Miss Keety, and--" Kitty closed her eyes as her shoulders started trembling, and Kurt leaned back in bewilderment, wondering if she was actually crying. Had his brief conversation with Tabitha really hurt her that much? Kurt started to feel like the most horrible lowlife in the world, and only when Kitty finally opened both her eyes and her lips and allowed a merry peal of giggles to escape did he realize that she'd been laughing at him all this time.   
"Miss Keety? Are you still angry vith me?" he ventured hesitantly, not knowing whether he should feel relieved or indignant.   
"Well, I still am," Kitty confirmed, but the smile playing at the corners of her lips more than negated her words. "But you can make it up to me..." She let her voice trail off there, and Kurt eagerly glanced in the direction her eyes had settled on, before piping up eagerly, "You vant me to challenge Bobby to a duel to prove my loyalty to you, Miss Keety?" Kitty looked genuinely shocked at his suggestion, gasping, "Now where would you get _that_ idea?" Then, before Kurt could go off on a tangent about his reasoning, she said quickly "No, I don't want you to duel with anybody--least of all Bobby--but I _would_ appreciate it if you could bring me some sparkling water from the refreshment table where Bobby's standing by...if it's not too much trouble, that is."   
"No trouble at all, Miss Keety," Kurt replied enthusiastically. "Zen you'll forgive me?" Kitty put on her most innocent face.   
"Of course I will, silly," she reassured him sweetly, but there was a mischievous gleam in her eyes that the German boy failed to catch as he eagerly scampered off to get some sparkling water for her. 

Kurt returned in a flash, nearly spilling the drink on several occasions in his haste as he tripped his way up to Kitty and held out a cut crystal goblet of sparkling water, reciting with a flourish, "Here's your drink, Miss Keety...now am I forgiven?" Kitty gave a disappointed frown, pointing out, "Oh, but there's just too much of it--I couldn't possibly hope to finish all that before the dancing starts." A helpless expression came over Kurt's features, as he sputtered, "But you said zat you'd forgive me if I--" Kitty smiled ingenuously, cooing in a voice meant to mimic Tabitha's coquetries, "Of course I would, Kurt--but how can I if you obviously don't care about my feelings and bring me back a whole gallon of water when I only asked for a little glass?" Kurt gave a dismayed pout, apologizing hastily, "But I _do_ care...uh, I mean, I'll get you a smaller glass, in zat case, Miss Keety." And he turned around and trudged off, too confused to notice when Kitty turned her face away and laughed quietly into her hand. 

When Kurt came back, he was carefully holding a noticeably smaller glass filled only halfway with sparkling water, which he offered tentatively to Kitty with a nervous smile and a question of, "Is zis all right, Miss Keety?" The wide-eyed, hopeful look on his face made Kitty hesitate, as she silently debated whether she should give this game up or continue for a couple more minutes. Then, hearing Tabitha's flamboyant laughter from the other side of the room as she flirted with Ray, Kitty decided that a few more rounds couldn't hurt, and turned to the German-American boy while working her features into a demure smile.   
"It _would_ be all right...if I were a ten-year-old child," she kidded while exaggeratedly flitting her eyelashes at him. Watching Kurt's face crumple up as though he'd just bitten into a lemon, she added gleefully, barely trying to hide the fact that she was teasing him, "Oh, but Kurt, I'm just so thirsty--this isn't enough water. Would you be so kind as to go back to the refreshment table and get me a slightly bigger glass?"   
"But you...but I...but ze vater...but Miss Tabby..." Kurt's mouth opened and closed silently, as though he were doing a fish-out-of-water imitation, before he gave up and conceded weakly, "Anything you want, Miss Keety, I'll get you more vater." And he slumped off, nearly bumping into Bobby on his trek to the refreshment table to get just the right amount of water for Kitty. 

On the other end of the room, a late arrival made his silent, almost furtive entrance into the ball, clean-shaven and dressed in an appropriately elegant ensemble, of which only the starched linen shirt actually belonged to him. Quietly entering through the grand atrium and blending into the crowd of finely-dressed guests, he failed to notice a certain pretty brunette in pink watered silk standing on the other side of the room and awaiting her glass of water, which was finally brought to her by a dark-haired German-American boy.   
"Here's your vater, Miss Keety," Kurt spoke up tentatively, searching Kitty's eyes for any telltale signs that she was playing a prank on him. "Is zis just ze right amount?" A mischievous smile danced across Kitty's lips, as she started to singsong, "Well, Kurt..."   
"You know, Miss Keety," Kurt quickly cut in, "I have zis nagging feeling zat you're just sending me off on zese water errands to punish me for talking to Miss Tabitha." Kitty flashed him a bright smile.   
"Am I now?" she asked sweetly, before laughing and sending him off, "In that case, try to bring me a smaller glass but filled all the way up instead of halfway this time, all right?" Kurt trudged off with an exaggerated sigh, and Kitty, still smiling, glanced up and took in the sights of the ball for the first time since her arrival. 

Tabitha was still teasing and flirting with Ray off in a corner, surprising Kitty somewhat that she'd stayed focused on one boy for so long without having danced off to another beau. Amara was walking into the room with the gliding, elegant step of a refined lady, dressed like a princess and surrounded by an entourage of other girls, while over by the refreshment table, Sam was whispering something into Rahne's ear that was making her both giggle and try to cover it up so as to not scandalize the conservative chaperones seated a few yards away. Strange that she couldn't find the hostess anywhere, Kitty thought to herself, wondering where Wanda Maximoff could be. But then again, the cold raven-haired beauty _was_ rather notorious for her dislike of entertaining guests...Kitty suddenly froze, when she caught sight of a new familiar face, male this time, standing tall and confident and looking handsomer than ever dressed in fashionably tailored clothes and holding a glass of brandy in one hand.   
"Lance," she spoke his name softly to herself, fighting a quick battle in her head as to whether she should go over and greet him, before beginning to move through the crowds. 

Kitty was halfway toward him when she finally noticed that he wasn't alone. Stopping abruptly in her tracks with a confused frown, she realized that not only was Lance _not_ alone, but he was in the company of a beautiful lady. Wanda, of all people, and as Kitty watched the couple conversing in quiet tones and giving every appearance of enjoying each other's company, a jumbled mixture of emotions flashed across her mind. Surprised at seeing the two talking to each other, confused as to why Lance suddenly seemed to be favoring Wanda when just last night he'd put on a purposely and hopelessly sappy show about how pretty Kitty was the only one, and strangely jealous at the happily interested look in his eyes as he talked to Wanda, Kitty failed to hear the footsteps behind her until an unmistakable German-accented voice spoke up, "Zere you are, Miss Keety. I've been looking everyvhere for you, and I have your vater here vith me; vhere did you go...?" Startled at the unexpected voice, Kitty barely caught herself in time before she would have given a high-pitched shriek and jumped through the ceiling, then turned around and stammered nervously, "Kurt...you, uh, you startled me there." Kurt only gave her a puzzled look, somehow sensing that her mood had changed during the short time he'd been absent but choosing not to voice his thoughts. Instead, he merely offered her the glass and said pleasantly, "I have your vater right here, Miss Keety--smaller glass, filled all the vay up, just like you asked." Kitty wore a distracted look on her face, murmuring in response, "Yes, well, send it back, Kurt. Suddenly, I'm not so thirsty anymore." Kurt frowned, aware that she wasn't just teasing him this time, and tried to follow her eyes to see what it was that had upset her. Realizing that Kurt was trying to look in the same direction she was, Kitty quickly focused her eyes on his face and said gently, "I'm sorry for sending you off on all those errands, Kurt, but I'm honestly not thirsty anymore." Kurt looked like he was about to cry at those words, and Kitty, cheered up by his funny face, laughed lightly and assured him, "There now--remember, the reel's starting next, and I wouldn't want to dance when I'm full of water, now would I?" Kurt brightened up, demanding eagerly, "You mean, zen, you'll dance ze reel vith me?" Kitty gave him a sunny grin.   
"Of course I will, you silly boy," she said affectionately. "Was there ever any doubt about that?" 

At that moment, the musicians on their raised dais tapped their instruments to signal that the first dance of the evening was about to begin, and a wave of excitement swept across the ballroom as young couples who'd been previously scattered every which where gathered into place in the middle of the room. The ladies and gentlemen each assembled into two separate lines facing each other in anticipation of the Virginia reel, and Kitty dutifully took her position at the foot of the ladies' line, while five feet across from her Kurt finally stopped clowning around with Bobby to grin and joke with her, "Don't vorry, Miss Keety--ve'll show every one of zem for putting us at ze bottom just because ve're one of ze younger couples." Kitty smiled back, but before she could say anything, the lively music signaling the beginning of the Virginia reel started, and the dance was soon underway. Automatically, Kitty took two steps forward along with the rest of the dancers, clapping twice and then returning to her previous place as Kurt flashed her one last grin before moving with easy grace to the center to bow with the top lady--Wanda Maximoff. A look of apprehension entered Kitty's eyes while she awaited her turn, as she began to guess whom Wanda's partner might be, but at that moment, Kurt and Wanda returned to their places after bowing, and it was Kitty's turn to move forward and bow with the top gentleman. Hastily, she crossed to the center as well, finding herself face to face with none other than Lance Alvers. Kitty froze, but fortunately Lance saved her from the troubles of deciding on an appropriate reaction when he smoothly bowed down the way she'd taught him the previous night, prompting her to hastily do the same while giving her a wink and a smile as he did so. And then the moment was gone, as both returned to their lines, Lance casually giving no other indication that he knew her, Kitty silently reproving herself for being so caught off-guard by him and nearly messing up in front of everybody as a result. 

* * *

Kitty quietly yawned into one hand while watching the couples on the floor, idly drumming her fingernails against her knee with her other hand as she wondered how long she was supposed to rest until she could dance again. At that moment, a shadow washed over her, and as she started to glance up in surprise, a friendly male voice spoke up, "Mind if I join you?" Kitty looked into the now familiar deep brown eyes, hearing her own voice counter, "Not really, but wouldn't Wanda get suspicious if she sees you philandering around with another girl?" Immediately, she froze, wishing she could turn back time before those crisply jealous words could have tumbled from her lips, but thankfully, Lance's reaction was more indulgent than jesting, as he replied pleasantly enough with a lopsided grin, "Don't tell me you're jealous, pretty Kitty." Kitty frowned and crossed her arms.   
"I'm not," she denied sullenly, hoping she sounded convincing and causing Lance's grin to grow wider.   
"Well, I'll still apologize to you nonetheless for ignoring you for the better part of this evening," he promised, then glanced around at all the watchful matrons seated on the sidelines and added quickly, "But not in here. I don't want one of those old hens to eavesdrop on our conversation." Kitty tried to smother a giggle, protesting half-heartedly, "Lance! What a horrible thing to say!" Lance shrugged, still grinning, before asking, "So, what do you say? I hear the Maximoffs' rose garden is something to see."   
"Well..." Kitty's eyes drifted back to the ballroom floor, and she murmured uncertainly, "Kurt _is_ expecting to dance the waltz with me..." A dark thundercloud flashed across Lance's features, before he quickly covered up his unchecked burst of emotion and drawled shrewdly, "Yes, of course. Now, correct me if I'm wrong, pretty Kitty, but would this Kurt be the one dancing with the beautiful blonde in the burgundy crinoline?" Kitty felt her lips draw together in a tight line, as she gritted out, "Tabitha," too engrossed in seething to be aware that Lance was slowly but steadily leading her away from the ballroom. 

It wasn't until the bright lights of the chandelier and candles were abruptly replaced by the moonlit night that Kitty realized she'd somehow wound up in the Maximoffs' rose garden after all. Turning to the young man standing beside her, she playfully slapped his arm while reproving him, "Lance, I don't recall agreeing to come here with you."   
"We know you would have agreed in the end, anyway, so I just saved us the trouble of cajoling you into coming here," came the instant tongue-in-cheek response, causing Kitty to concede a grudging smile of agreement.   
"Maybe, maybe not," she reminded him good-humoredly. "But still, this is the second time in two days already that you've coaxed me into meeting you unchaperoned; my reputation will be ruined within a week if I keep consorting with you like this--" 

Kitty didn't notice the abrupt change of expression on Lance's face, as his playful smile suddenly froze to allow a look of alarm to seep through. Nor did she have a chance to perceive it, when Lance suddenly gave a hoarse cry and roughly tackled her to the ground, ignoring her outraged shrieks and pressing her flat against the dewy grass as the thick trunk of an uprooted pine tree suddenly went flying above their heads, barely missing grazing Lance's hair by a few inches. The heavy tree smashed against a tall cedar several feet away, and only when all was quiet again except for the sound of his heavy breathing and Kitty's frightened little gasps did Lance get off and help the petite brunette to her feet.   
"Wh....what was that? I mean, it couldn't have been an accident, could it? Maybe the wind..." Kitty stammered fretfully, shivering like a fragile leaf caught in a breeze but unaware of her trembling. Lance frowned and glanced at a spot above her head, absently taking off his black broadcloth coat and throwing it around her shaking shoulders while murmuring in reply, "No. It definitely wasn't an accident." Kitty looked up at him with frightened cornflower-blue eyes.   
"Then what do you suppose just happened?" she ventured, not sure she wanted to know his answer. Lance finally lowered his gaze to meet her eyes, disclosing quietly, "It looks like we have company, pretty Kitty." 


End file.
